


A New Family

by Arazamatazza



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Angst, Implied Cannibalism, M/M, Merformers, Probs some OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-23 21:18:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7480443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arazamatazza/pseuds/Arazamatazza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You all know what happens when an octopus lays its eggs</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vienn_peridot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vienn_peridot/gifts).



> Okay, so, I want to preface this by saying this is my first and likely only work of fiction I will ever write. You'll likely very quickly understand why once you read it, as it definitely feels more like an outline than a fleshed out story. Even though I have a ton of ideas for fic, I dont have the patience or attention span to dedicate to it. However, I was bitten hard by a bunny heavily inspired by vienn_peridot's Merformers AU with Ratchet as an octomer and I decided I could do a very, very brief foray into this AU (with their permission). Though its more of an AU of an AU, heh. I didnt outline this piece or anything. I literally just sat down and started writing. This is the result- no editing or anything either. Just want to get this out there and out of my head. This will have a second part to it that I plan to write sometime this weekend, but it will definitely not be longer than 3 parts. Some important notes for this: Drift is a mako shark, Wing is a lionfish, and Ratchet is obviously an octomer. Also, Wing and Ratchet have been in a long term relationship and have only just recently added Drift to the mix. Drift is an adult but takes suppressants and as such has never experienced a heat (which is important to note for the second part of the story).

At first, no one thought anything was amiss. After all, it wasn’t unusual for Ratchet to disappear for days, even a week at a time. The large octomer preferred to hunt alone and it wasn’t unheard of for him to become sidetracked by assisting other, injured mer along the way. More than one Autobot owed Ratchet for bringing them home to the pod to recuperate, only for them to decide to remain permanently. But when his absence stretched to nine days, then ten, to two weeks- that was when Drift and Wing knew something was wrong. Ratchet would never go that long without reporting back to the pod if only to set his mates’ minds at ease. 

“What do you mean, Ratchet isn’t back yet?” Optimus wasn’t a bad pod leader. Quite the opposite in fact. But the Autobots spanned the entirety of the great Iaconian Reef. That made it difficult to keep track of each and every member, especially those who were like Ratchet who lived at the very edges of the reef. Even though he was the pods best physician, it wasn’t feasible for him to be the only one. As such, only the most grievous of injuries were tended to by the older mech, despite his grumbles and complaints about ‘not being that old.’ All in all, Ratchet’s isolated state combined with the vastness of the pod and its territory made it impossible for Optimus and the other Autobots to realize that something was amiss with the medic unless they specifically needed him- or his mates came forward with their concerns. 

Drift lashed his tail side to side; “Exactly what I said. He hasn’t come back to the nest in two weeks. He left to go _hunting_. What if something happened to him and we haven’t known all this time? We need to search for him!” Drift snarled, his lips peeling back to expose rows of sharp fangs. At least Optimus was level headed enough to recognize the act as one of frustration rather than aggression. He tried to swim closer to the smaller mer, “Of course we will-” but Drift jerked away from the comforting touch. 

He should be out there looking for Ratchet with Wing- or heck, _instead_ of Wing. He was one of the fastest in the pod, he could cover more area. Given he and his mates lived on the outer reaches of the reef, however, Drift had been the one sent to inform Optimus of Ratchet’s absence while Wing began the search on his own. Now that he had delivered the news though, “No, don’t say you’ll do it. Just _do it_. I came to tell you about Ratchet’s absence. Now I’m going to go look for him,” like he should have been doing this entire team. Optimus huffed as he watched Drift twist and shoot away into the waters. He had work to do though and quickly turned as well to seek out Prowl and the other pod elders to organize a search party. 

\----

It didn’t take long for Drift to locate Wing. All three of them were intimately familiar with each others scents and it didn’t take a genius to know that Wing would be searching for their mate in his favored haunts. “Any sign of him?”

Wing’s fins flared and he whirled around, startled by Drift’s silent approach. He hadn’t even felt the water ripple behind him, either. “No,” he huffed, his fins flattening against the length of his body. “But we’ve only just started. I take it you informed Optimus?”

“Of course,” Drift snapped and crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m sure he’ll mobilize the entire pod to find Ratchet too. But that will take time and besides, none of them know Ratchet like we do. They can perform a broader search of the reef, but we know where he liked to go….” All points that Wing already knew, but of the two of them he was far better at wrangling his temper. Even though he was equally frustrated and, quite frankly, scared he knew that snapping back at Drift would only serve as a detriment to their search. Taking in a deep drought of water through his gills, Wing let out a long sigh to calm himself and keep the panic from his voice, “I know, love. I know. I’ve already searched here, though, and haven’t found a trace.” And this was Ratchet’s favorite hunting spot; “We can try the sunken ship next, then the caves. If he isn’t there, then…” 

It was best not to think about ‘then.’ Because ‘then’ meant Ratchet could be anywhere, without them having a single clue as to where he could be. 

Even though Drift wanted to split up and search at different locations for Ratchet, Wing convinced him it would be best if they stuck together. True they could search different areas simultaneously, but each location was large in its own right and could take hours for them to search through on their own. Unvoiced was Wings fear of letting his other mate out of his sight. It was irrational and he knew it, but the entire time he had been separated from Drift while the mako-mer spoke to Optimus, he couldn’t help but worry about Drift; he’d already lost one mate. He wasn’t going to lose sight of the other if he could help it. 

They spent all day searching. The sunken ship ended up being a bust. Much like the hunting grounds, there was neither hide nor fin of Ratchet and they searched every nook and cranny of the place. The fact that Ratchet didn’t respond to their calls didn’t deter either mer; for all they knew he could be injured or unconscious and thus unable to respond. Drift even tore apart the floorboards of the ship, hoping to find his mate trapped beneath. 

The underwater caves were their next location. They were a labyrinth that Ratchet enjoyed because of the mussels and small fish that made their home there with the belief they would be safe from larger predators. Which was mostly true, but like their non-sentient brethren, octomer were infamous for their ability to get into spaces they really had no right to be in. Their search was shaping up to be another failure when Drift’s sense caught a whiff of something…odd, yet familiar. The sleek mer froze and took in a large sample of water through his gills. It was faint, but-

The mostly white mech trilled, the high pitched sound catching Wings attention. Drift shot off in the direction the scent was coming from, the mech darting towards the entrance of each and every cave entrance lining the walls and crooning Ratchet’s designation. Once Wing realized what was going on he was quick to follow after his mate and call out to Ratchet. Drift’s sense of smell was far superior than Wings, however. 

“Ratchet!” He cried out, catching a stronger scent. His heart was pounding in his chest. Ratchet was close by. He didn’t smell any blood so if his mate was hurt, he wasn’t bleeding at least. Unless he was unconscious though, he didn’t understand why Ratchet wouldn’t respond to him so in his mind, Ratchet _had_ to be hurt. 

“Drift, wait-” Wing tried to warn him. He was trailing behind Drift and had finally noticed the off scent. It was definitely Ratchet, but there was something unfamiliar about it that made his fins bristle. The warning came too late though. In his euphoric state, Drift’s reflexes were too slow. His face popped up in front of the cave where the scent was strongest- a promptly got whacked in the face by a tentacle. 

The thick, muscular arm coiled around his face and squeezed. Drift yelped in both shock and pain, but did nothing to fight off the tentacle trying to pop his helm. He was in too much shock; because the red and white of the tentacle, the scent- it could _only_ be Ratchet. 

Ratchet…Ratchet was doing this to him. Ratchet was _hurting_ him, and it just did not compute. 

A blood curdling screech echoed from the cave and suddenly the tentacle withdrew from his face, leaving behind an inky red trail in the water and throbbing red sucker marks all over his face. Beside him Wing floated, quivering, the trail of blood emanating from his exposed fangs. 

Drift was still immobilized from shock, but Wing- Wing _saw_. Deep within the cave, just barely distinguishable, were two glowing, slitted, golden orbs and the rippling iridescence of Ratchet’s pale white hide. There was no recognition in those eyes. Only menace and threat. 

There was constant motion within the cave. All it took was one glimpse between those rippling tentacles for Wing to know.

“No…” He gasped, voice low and hollow. “ _No_.” The odd scent finally made sense as he recognized it. Wing keened, his servos swiping through the water to claw at his face. It was enough to draw Drift from his stupor, alarmed by his mates sudden display of misery. Yeah, sure, Ratchet had just attacked him, but surely it was just a mistake in identity. He was hurt and confused. Drift didn’t understand Wing’s reaction; shouldn’t he be happy they at least found him?

“Wing..?”

The lionfish mer turned and gripped Drift hard, and pulled the younger mech into his arms. Unsure what else to do, Drift returned the hug, but his gaze wandered over towards the mouth of the cave where Ratchet was still hiding. “Wing? What’s going on?” His mate was starting to scare him.

There were several long moments where Wing continued to just keen and shudder in his arms, but the older mech managed to get himself under control enough to pull away and stare into Drift’s abused face. Wing took a deep, shuddery breath then glanced over towards the hissing mass still coiled about inside the cave.

“Ratchet and I…we didn’t want to tell you. Not until you had been with us for a little while longer,” as he spoke, Wing began to subtly move both of them away from the cave. Their presence there was only going to stress Ratchet out even worse. “You see, Ratchet…As an octomer, he- he’s different,” Wing stammered, the mech struggling to get the words out.  
Drift cocked his helm to the side, not understanding what Wing was trying to get at. Oh course he knew Ratchet was different. He’d been part of their cohort for almost a year now. He was well aware of this fact. He let Wing continue without interruption, though-

“What I mean is…Primus!” Wing bit his lip. There was no good way to say this and if he kept drawing it out, he’d end up in tears again and unable to explain. “Octomer are only able to carry once in their life! After they lay their eggs they defend them, without sleeping or eating, until they hatch…and then they _die_ ,” he sobbed. Then he gripped Drift’s face and made him really _look_ inside the cave. Made Drift stare until his mate finally caught sight of the pearl colored droplets hanging from the ceiling of the cave, where Ratchet’s tentacles were restlessly fluttering about to circulate water over them.

A beat. Then- “N-no…No! It can’t be true!” Drift began to wiggle in Wings hold, desperate to escape and approach Ratchet. But Wing held on, knowing his mates intentions. He couldn’t allow Drift to get close. “Drift,” he said softly. Then, “ _Drift_ ,” more firmly and gave his mate a harsh shake. “Ratchet doesn’t recognize you, or me, or anyone. All he sees…All he sees are threats,” he choked and dug his claws into Drift’s arms. “If you approach again…he’ll kill you. He’ll die defending his eggs.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, the promised end. If you thought the first chapter was bad, please prepare your feels for this one. All the archive warnings are for this. 
> 
> I'm so super happy people seem to have enjoyed the last chapter, so hopefully ya'll like this one too! Same deal as before though- no beta or any real proof reading on this.

Drift briefly continued struggling in Wing’s grasp, but only after a few moments he sagged in his mates arms, defeated. “But…but _how_ could this have happened?” Voice plaintive, begging for Wing to have the answers. Drift turned equally wretched vermillion optics towards the other mer, “I mean, Ratchet hasn’t gone into heat!”

Even though Drift had ceased his struggling, Wing kept a careful hold on the younger mer. During the others struggles he’d managed to pull them far enough away from the cave entrance where Ratchet had ceased his hissing and the two of them could no longer see the other mer within its depths. Yet Wing couldn’t help but keep his gaze on it. And for once, he didn’t have any answers to give; “I…I don’t know,” he admitted. Because Drift was right. Ratchet hadn’t gone into heat. The two of them- they had been together for years. They had a system down. Ratchet always knew a few days in advance before one of his heats hit. He’d tell Wing so that Wing could start taking suppressants. Then the two of them would find a secluded and secure area- typically one of these very caves- for Ratchet to hole up in. When the medic’s heat hit, Wing would defend the cave’s entrance from unwanted suitors, the suppressants making him more easily able to resist the others tempting pheromones. 

If Ratchet had felt his heat coming, he would have _told_ Wing, in order to avoid this. Even if Ratchet hadn’t told him, then they at least they would have known why Ratchet was in this situation. As it was, they had no idea who the sire was. Which brought up a different, and chilling thought to mind-

“If dying is the consequence to all this- why wouldn’t Ratchet take suppressants?!” Drift demanded, finally pulling himself away from Wing’s hold and interrupting the other mers unhappy thoughts. 

Wing slitted his eyes at the mako and bore his fangs. Wing had the most patience out of their partnership, but enough was enough. He was hurting too. Drift wasn’t the only one upset by the situation and Wing had known Ratchet for far longer than the other mech. “You already know the answer to that!” Was snapped, Wing’s many fins flaring up in irritation. It was a point of contention that he and Ratchet had with Drift. Suppressing ones heats too many times could mess with their biology. It was all right every once in a while, but heats were natural. When he and Ratchet first found out Drift had never experienced a heat, they’d been both outraged and concerned. Yet no matter what they did or said, Drift refused to stop taking the suppressants. “Ratchet and I had things figured out. It was a safe alternative,” ‘to what you do’ was left unsaid, but it remained hanging in the water between them. 

“Tch, yeah, look how safe it was-”

Wing launched himself the short distance between them, though it seemed Drift was prepared for that. They were both hurting and rather than dealing with their grief in a healthy way, Drift had provoked his mate to attack. He wanted to hurt physically, to take away the pain in his heart- because before Ratchet, and Wing, he’d never had to care for anyone but himself. He didn’t know how to deal with his grief except to lash out. As for Wing? Well, Drift wasn’t wrong. And Wing needed someone to blame for this besides himself.

One would never know the two mers were mates with the way they traded blows. This wasn’t the sparring they were used to, with Wing training Drift. There were no calculated moves. It was all instinct, with fangs and claws tearing through the water and flesh alike. 

The delicate membrane of Wing’s fins tore easily under Drift’s assault; thankfully Wing was still cognizant enough to avoid stabbing Drift accidentally with his poisonous barbs. He did not, however, hesitate to capture Drift’s throat between his jaws. Or to snarl loudly against said throat. Drift immediately went still and limp, showing his submission to the other to end the fight. Both of them were bloody and bruised, but thankfully nothing too serious.

“…We should get out of here,” Drift said quietly, not wanting to move his throat too much and prick it against Wing’s fangs. Their fight had scented the water with too much blood and the mako guiltily realized they could have just potentially lured predators this way- right to Ratchet’s nesting grounds. Wing seemed to come to the same conclusion. 

He released Drift’s neck and shook his head. “We can move away from the caves, but we should stick close by, just in case. And maybe we can figure out what happened,” he sighed.

The two of them swam up and out the ravine, making sure to thrash their tails as much as possible to create a blood trail _away_ from Ratchet’s chosen den. Neither said anything to the other though. Apologies weren’t needed to be said for them to be felt though both mechs were feeling guilty for the fight. 

There wasn’t anywhere for them to go around the ravine that would provide adequate shelter, but there was no way they’d leave the area. It might leave them exposed, but they’d also be able to see anyone, or anything, else that might appear.  
Wing curled up in the sand and began to lick his wounds. Drift slowly approached, his claws tucked up submissively against his chest. Even though Wing stared at him the older mech didn’t rebuff him when he came close. The mako mer cuddled close and began to help lick Wing’s wounds, ignoring his own. 

The older mer sighed and stretched out an arm to hug Drift to him and while Drift tended to his wounds, Wing licked at the slimmer mers. The two of them were quietly somber for a while. Wing was the first to break the silence, “I just can’t understand this,” he said quietly. He had finished with Drift’s wounds and now rested his chin on top of the others head; still keeping an eye out for potential predators. “Ratchet had to have gone into heat for this to happen, but…there’s no way it could have happened without one of us noticing it.”

Drift hummed into Wing’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around the others waist. “Well…he had been acting differently recently,” he pointed out. “At least, in retrospect. He’d been going out hunting more, and he was friskier than usual even for him. I just- I didn’t realize at the time.”

Wing was silent as he thought over Drift’s words. Like the mako, he hadn’t really noticed things day by day, but looking back it all seemed so obvious. Then he started thinking about what he knew of octomers. Ratchet had been pregnant for 5 to 8 months, he knew it varied between species of octomer as well as their diet and other environmental factors. When thinking clearly on the subject it didn’t take long for him to realize when Ratchet must have entered his heat.

Six months ago he’d left for a month long diplomatic meeting with his former pod, the Crystal Reef pod. If Ratchet had gone into heat sometime while he was away, of course he wouldn’t have realized it. If that was the case though, why didn’t Ratchet tell Drift? At the very least, Ratchet could have told them he’d been impregnated so they could both prepare to say their goodbyes. Even if he’d been raped by another mer, Ratchet was smart enough to know he and Drift would have taken care of him- they would never have abandoned him and then they could have ensured they spent as much time as possible with one another.

“Drift, when I went away for that diplomatic mission, did Ratchet act strange to you? At all? Any little thing that stood out?” 

His first response was going to be no, but he knew this was important in figuring out how this all happened. So Drift bit his tongue and actually thought back all those months ago. He remembered it feeling so weird to have Wing gone. Ever since the pair had allowed him into their partnership, he had been around all three. So for it to be just him and Ratchet- it had been both exciting and terrifying. He’d never been intimate with just one of them either, so when Ratchet had approached him a week into Wing’s departure, Drift had happily accepted his advances. It made him feel even more accepted and wanted, to be desired on his own and not just when the already mated pair wanted to include him. But-

“Not really. Except…” Drift frowned and began to slowly pull away from Wing’s embrace. “Except he- he smelled a bit different. Like what was at the caves-”

There was a moment where both mechs pulled away to stare at one another. Realization dawned on them both at about the same time. This time Drift was quick enough to avoid being attacked. Granted, Wing didn’t immediately lash out, either. It wasn’t the response he’d been expecting though. All this time he’d assumed Ratchet hadn’t told Drift about his heats and mating cycle in order to not scare him, thus had gone off to one of the caves to deal with it on his own, and had been unable to fend off some random mer. To know that Drift had done it, that this was Drift’s fault-

“I didn’t know!” Drift blurted from several feet away. “I didn’t know… Oh Primus, this is my fault. I-I-” He’d killed Ratchet; or as good as. Drift’s heart felt like Unicron himself had reached inside him and touched his heart, tainting it with a yawning blackness. 

“It is your fault!” Wing exploded. Grief, anger, guilt. It all swirled about his heart in a tangled, writhing mass. Deep, deep in his mind he knew blaming Drift was wrong. But right now his mind wasn’t what was doing the thinking for him and the writhing mass inside him exploded outwards to damage that which had made him feel this way. “If you’d just listened to us before- if you’d experienced even just one damned heat!- you’d have known the signs. You’d have recognized the scent!” Even though Drift hadn’t known an octomers fate after mating, Wing knew he wouldn’t have taken advantage of Ratchet while he was in heat if he’d known the other was in heat. They’d never discussed younglings before and based on Drift’s aversion to having a heat it was rather obvious he wasn’t thrilled with the idea- especially considering he had no compunctions about mating with them. 

“ _Ratchet’s going to die because of you!_ ” 

Drift’s heart shattered into shrapnel that pierced every nerve in his body. Wing didn’t get another chance to tear into his ‘mate.’ Drift used his speed as one of the fastest Autobots to flee the area.

When Wing eventually returned home that night, Drift wasn’t there

\---

The two of them avoided each other. Drift stayed with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, while Wing remained in what had once been his and Ratchet’s home. The Autobots were of course informed of the reason for the couple’s fight. There were all the expected responses: shock, disbelief, grief, anger. Optimus had even gone to see for himself and had come home with sucker marks around his throat. 

There were some who blamed Drift just as much as Wing had. He was an easy outlet to take their frustrations out on, but surprisingly the twins were stalwart in their support of him. Not that it mattered; the only ones whose opinions mattered to him were gone. Besides, Wing and the others were right. 

Perhaps the only thing keeping the mako alive was his need to help Ratchet. Every morning he would go out to hunt and bring back food to Ratchet’s cave. He didn’t want to further stress the octomer out by getting too close, so he’d tie chunks of food to rocks and lob them into the mouth of the cave. Or he’d just throw the food as close as he could get to the entrance. When he came back the next day he could never tell if Ratchet had eaten the meat or if some other being had dared get close enough to try, but at least he was _trying_. Anything to save Ratchet.  
\---

As fate would have it, it was inevitable Wing and Drift ran into one another at some point. It was only two weeks since their fight and subsequent break up, or whatever you wanted to call it. When Drift came by that morning to feed Ratchet, Wing was already there, waiting for him. Drift hadn’t been the only one to visit Ratchet and Wing had noticed the food floating around the cave. He’d immediately known who was doing it of course, but it had taken time for Wing to work up the nerve to confront his former mate.

As soon as he saw Wing, Drift froze where he was, his grip tightening on the bundle of meat he carried. The two of them stared at one another. Even though they were only maybe 10 feet from each other, it might as well have been a whole ocean. Wing had realized that what he’d said to Drift was wrong. He still had no idea why Ratchet hadn’t said anything about his impending heat to Drift to warn him, but knowing Ratchet as well as he did- he suspected he knew why the other hadn’t said anything afterwards. Because if Ratchet had told them sooner, Drift wouldn’t have been able to enjoy his time left with Ratchet. He’d be doing what he was doing now: blaming himself for Ratchet’s death. The time they’d had left with each other would have been miserable and somber, rather than filled with the usual warmth and joy it had bene for the last several months. He’d also had enough time to put himself in Drift’s fins and knew that nothing he ever did- no apology or action- would ever assuage Drift of his guilt. The younger mer would spend the rest of his life blaming himself for this, and instead of acting like a proper mate, Wing had shunned him. Ratchet would be so upset with him right now if he could have understood the situation. 

Mistakes were made on all sides and even though it hurt him to admit, this whole situation was partly Ratchet’s fault too for how he handled things. 

After what felt like an eternity of staring at one another, Wing chuffed and inclined his helm towards the cave. “Come on, then. I’m sure Ratchet’s hungry…”

The way Drift’s face lit up, and having the sleek mer suddenly dart forward to nuzzle and croon at him, made the lie worth it. Wing knew for a fact Ratchet hadn’t been eating the meat Drift left for him, but if it made Drift feel better…Who was he to begrudge him that?

\---

Things did not magically get better for the two mers, of course. They didn’t share a nest again, yet. Wing had damaged Drift in a way far worse than any physical wound. Yet every morning, whenever Drift left to go hunting, Wing was waiting and joined him. He’d help toss meat towards Ratchet cave and then the two of them would float there- sometimes for mere minutes, other times easily an hour. Then they would silently turn as one and go. 

There was little doubt at this point that Drift knew Ratchet wasn’t eating, but what else could they do? They couldn't do _nothing_ and in his mind, all he wanted was to at least make Ratchet’s last moments more comfortable. 

\---

They continued the routine for months. Unfailingly they would go out and hunt in the morning, then toss food into Ratchet’s den. On one occasion they saw another shark mer snooping around the ravine. Both Wing and Drift lost it, and managed to chase off the intruder. Though ever since, they added a second visit to the caves to their routine.

It was during one of these later visits months later that everything changed once more.

At first, they couldn’t tell that anything was different. The waters were too dark, and even darker within the ravine. Wing’s sharper eyes made him the first to notice something was off. “Drift,” he murmured, and grabbed the others arm before he could swim any closer to Ratchet’s cave, then pointed with his free claw.

It took a moment for Drift’s poor eyes to locate what Wing saw. It wasn’t as clear to him as it was to Wing, but the basic shape was enough. “Ratchet!” The armful of weighted meat was dropped and both mer swam towards the cave entrance. All these months they had been so careful to keep a distance, not wanting to stress Ratchet out. None of that hesitance existed now.

For floating just within the mouth of the cave, was Ratchet’s unmoving body. “Ratchet! Ratchet, please, no- nonono,” Drift babbled, his arms going around the medic’s corpse. For no matter how much he wished to deny it, there was no other way to describe the medic. The once vibrant splotches of red that had adorned the octomers body were bleached white and his once large, luminous gold eyes had shrunk within the saggy folds of his face and gone grey. 

Wing was right there with Drift. The older mech tossed his head back and keened his sorrow. 

“Why? Why, why would he do this?” Drift sobbed, one claw shakily running over the stubs of Ratchet’s missing limbs. They had been feeding him! It was one thing to know Ratchet would starve himself for his young, but to eat his own flesh, when there were alternatives? Drift couldn’t fathom it. He couldn’t fathom that Ratchet was gone, either. 

Wing had no words, no answers. One paw covered his mouth, but nothing could muffle the sounds of his mourning. 

The inside of the cave was empty as well. All that was left of the thousands upon thousands of eggs were the remnants of the sacks floating about in the water like so much detritus. 

“Peep!”

Both sets of eyes snapped open and up, their bodies stiff with readied aggression. Yet floating just in front of Drift’s face was the smallest pup he’d ever laid eyes on. It was a little octomer, no bigger than one of his claws. Instinct told him to snap up the little creature- clearly it was too stupid to survive in this world if it was so willing to approach an unknown predator. And yet-

“R-ratchet,” Drift croaked. He found himself moving without any direct input from his brain. One moment he was clinging to the corpse of his mate. The next, he was cupping the indisputable progeny of his and Ratchet’s ill-fated mating between his monstrously huge paws. Staring back at him with golden eyes far too large for its little face, was an exact copy of his mate. 

The little one ‘peeped’ at him again and wiggled its little tentacles in a failed attempt to get closer. Drift obliged, and brought the pup closer to his face. “Oh Ratchet…Ratchet, Ratchet, Ratchet,” he sobbed as the little one touched his cheek. He felt a firmer, more solid touch on his shoulder; when he glanced over, Wing was curled up against his back and staring over his shoulder at the baby octomer. It was the most his ex had touched him since their fight.

“I think it’s time we went home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They also have a funeral for Ratchet but this was where I wanted to end the story.


End file.
